Time running out for woman to stay in foreclosed home

Detroit woman's future threatened by pending mortgage eviction

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From left, community activist Jocelyn Harris of Detroit's east side talks Sunday to Lela Whitfield near Whitfield's house at a community picnic and concert held to support Whitfield's efforts to resist a foreclosure order from lending giant Fannie Mae.(Photo: Bill Laitner, Detroit Free Press)Buy Photo

To block her pending eviction, supporters have been singing, dancing, drumming, painting, praying and holding meetings outside the Detroit home of Lela Whitfield.

Threatened with eviction by government-sponsored lending giant Fannie Mae, Whitfield has attracted a legion of allies in T-shirts and blue jeans, many with a church-based group called Detroit Eviction Defense.

But a spokesman for Fannie Mae told the Free Press last week that time is running out for Whitfield, and she must move soon, even if supporters pitch in to help her buy the house.

The property, appraised two years ago at $9,000, is saddled with nearly $60,000 in debt accrued on a reverse mortgage that was taken out in 2005 by Whitfield's late mother, court records show. The loan brought Whitfield's mother a modest windfall, which court records show she used to pay off a conventional mortgage.

Whitfield and her supporters said she is living day-to-day, facing the constant threat of a bailiff and police who could suddenly appear to oust her — a possibility that activists vow to block with their own bodies by standing shoulder to shoulder, encircling the house with its plywood-covered porch, crumbling steps and faded paint. A Free Press story recounted the standoff last month. So far, Fannie Mae has surprised the group by doing nothing.

"My mother never told me she did that," said Whitfield, 56, referring to the reverse mortgage on the house Whitfield grew up in. Although federal lending rules initially gave Whitfield a chance to buy the house for 90% of its appraised value, she missed the deadline, saying she was frightened and confused by foreclosure threats in letters from lawyers representing Fannie Mae and a previous creditor.

Although a judge at Detroit's 36th District Court issued a court order for her to move in June, Whitfield stayed put. The situation has been deemed a cautionary tale by consumer advocates and lending experts. They warn that reverse mortgages may seem attractive to elderly homeowners today but they can be onerous years from now for future heirs like Whitfield who inherit a house.

Fannie Mae has offered Whitfield “assistance in relocation expenses,” said the Fannie Mae spokesman and Senior Director of Media Relations Andrew Wilson in Washington, D.C. Yet, neighbors and activists said the house is sure to be vandalized, and probably rendered worthless, if left vacant for even a short time amid the vacant lots and abandoned houses in the neighborhood.

"If they evict her at noon, by midnight that house will be stripped," said Michelle Dexter, 48, who lives across the street from Whitfield.

Fannie Mae insists that Whitfield move out as part of the federal regulatory requirements of HUD — the U.S. Housing and Urban Development. HUD's rules must be followed if Fannie Mae is to receive from HUD an insurance settlement on the debt, Wilson said. After the Free Press got involved, Fannie Mae offered to sell Whitfield the house — at a price "that we believe she would be able to afford," Wilson said, presumably near the appraised value — but only if she moves out.

She'd need to vacate for 30 to 60 days, her lawyer said, because "that's usually how long it takes" for Fannie Mae and HUD to complete a required inspection and reappraisal of the house, followed by a court hearing, attorney Matthew Clark said.

"It has to be emptied of all her possessions, and of course it’s then open to vandalism," Clark said. He donated most of his services to Whitfield, he said. A way out of the impasse might be for HUD to relax its rules, and to grant "something called ‘occupied conveyance’ — that's an explicit exception for high-crime areas, to keep people in their homes," Clark said.

The Free Press informed HUD of the situation last month. Soon after, HUD's Detroit Field Office Director Michael Polsinelli said he drove past Whitfield's house and hoped a resolution could be found. Last week, however, Polsinelli referred inquiries to HUD public affairs spokeswoman Gina Rodriguez at HUD's regional office in Chicago, who e-mailed the Free Press a "no comment" about the case.

That leaves the waiting and war of nerves to continue, punctuated by sporadic gatherings of visitors outside Whitfield's 1921 bungalow. They've appeared to paint 50 yards of fencing with slogans like “Foreclosure-free zone” and “Black Lives Matter,” and to walk the streets in a campaign to recruit neighbors to their cause. Last weekend, they staged a combined concert, poetry slam and family picnic. More than 100 people came to watch, perform or speak to the crowd.

“We call this community defense — because defending a home is defending our entire community, and that means we put ourselves on the line to keep Lela in her home,” said Bob Day, a lawyer and activist with a church-based group called Detroit Eviction Defense, who clutched a microphone as listeners nodded and responded "Amen!"

Whitfield told a reporter that she's riven with stress but continues to work each day as a dialysis technician. But seeing the support outside her door has buoyed her spirits, she said.

"We've had a lot of performers, a lot of eats, a lot of good people here — a real good turnout. It feels pretty good," she said.